


Celebrity Wolf

by Alexdoesthings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Acting!Au, Deceit, Derek Hale - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Teen Wolf, sterek, stiles stilinski - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexdoesthings/pseuds/Alexdoesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek are co-stars on the television show, Teen Wolf. Everyone knows it's not as big as it deserves to be and their director, Matt, knows just how to raise the ratings, play matchmaker with Derek and Stiles. The only problem is, they hate each other. But, really, that's only how it started.</p>
<p>In a world where everyone is out to get what they want at any cost, the boys are confronted by the question, is there a chance for a love that blooms out of deceit or is it better to keep everyone as far away as possible?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Matt is the scary evil director, Stiles and Derek are costars on the show Teen Wolf, and everything is hate and emerging feelings and later fluffiness...
> 
> I have the end and the beginning of this done with a good idea what's going on in the middle so jump on my magic carpet of words and let's see where this takes us!
> 
> I got the idea from this AMAZING picture by pakost  
> pakost.deviantart.com/art/Let-them-see-322682068

Stiles and Derek’s backs slam into the piece of concrete jutting out from the road, one after the other, muscles tensed for any signs of further danger approaching. Stiles is trying to keep his loud breathing quiet and Derek has his head cocked to hear any noises coming at them. All is quiet for the moment.

Stiles swallows and looked over at Derek, determined. “What’s the plan,” he asks in that final way people do when they are about to charge into a death trap and know they aren’t coming back. Stiles isn’t stupid, he knew they had a very slim chance of surviving this, if any at all, since the start.

“Does it look like we have a plan,” Derek growls, head turned away from Stiles to catch any sound or movement from the direction they had come.

“Derek,” Stiles says sharply and grabs the werewolf’s chin to yank his head around and meet his hard gaze, “We’re going to get through this. We just need to think.”

Derek stares into Stiles’ eyes for a moment. Stiles fear is hidden beneath determination. He is scared, more scared than he’s ever been in his life, but he isn’t going down without a fight.

“Alright,” Derek says after a moment, extricating his chin from Stiles fingers, “We’ll have to move though. It’s not safe here.”

Derek turns back to the edge of the turned up cement slab and Stiles shifts into a crouch at his back, muttering, “I’m right behind you Wolfman.”

Derek signals with a jerk of his head and they both shoot out from behind their temporary cover, tearing across the open space toward a building that is only half decimated.

Derek hears the click and the change in pressure just before it happens and turns back to Stiles just as an explosion lights up the street. He tackles the teen to the ground just as the worst of the heat and rubble hit them, cradling Stiles head as he using his own body as a shield.

Derek’s arms loosen and Stiles meets Derek’s eyes as he checks to see if Stiles is hurt.

“Never knew you cared,” Stiles croaks, jokingly, his ears ringing from the blast. Stiles has a small cut on his ear but otherwise he’s entirely unharmed. Derek on the other hand has glass dotting his cheek like a gruesome connect the dots game. The werewolf is alerted to some noise and jerks his head to the side so Stiles has a full view of the constellation of shards stuck into skin. Derek doesn’t seem to notice but Stiles reaches up, on instinct, and touches his cheek and says, slightly stunned, “Derek, you’ve got-”

But Derek catches his hand just as his fingers brush some unharmed skin and holds onto his wrist, glancing sharply at Stiles. “We have to move,” Derek repeats quietly pulling Stiles to his feet. He keeps a hold on Stiles wrist protectively as they run into the empty half demolished building.

“And cut,” Director Matthew "Matt" Daehler yells with a satisfied smirk. He gets up out of his chair and claps as he calls to the cast and crew, “That’s it for today everyone. Good job. We’ll start again bright early tomorrow morning, do not forget to bring something for the potluck on Friday, and get some rest because it’s going to be a long one tomorrow.”

Derek and Stiles both emerge from within the set piece at opposite ends, as usual, as far from each other as possible.

“Only three hours today Matt,” Stiles calls his question across to the young directing genius, picking his way across the false rubble, “You sick or something?”

“As much as I know you would enjoy that Stiles,” he gives the mad but brilliant actor a look that’s half endearing and half something dark and dangerous that lurks under children’s beds, “It was all you and Derek. It would have taken longer if it had been anyone else. Better watch out, you go through those scenes too smoothly and people might actually think you like each other.”

Stiles scoffs at the notion, “I just don’t want to have to spend any more time than is humanly possible with him.” He shoots a derisive glance over his shoulder at the makeup table where Derek is cleaning off the false wounds.

Matt has a deviously sly look in his eyes as he observes idly, “You two have great onscreen chemistry though.” Stiles knows he should probably be worried by that look but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment as he finally reaches the director’s side, wiping at his sooty face with the tail of his shirt. The table behind Matt has snacks and Stiles wants in on that _now_.

“That’s because we’re the best,” Stiles throws out there casually. He doesn’t even hesitate to praise them anymore because there is no denying it, even though he had done it himself at the start.

“That’s just what I was hoping you would say,” Matt says cheerfully, grabbing Stiles shoulders forcefully and leading the man on a mission away from the table of food and toward Derek, who has only a few swipes to go on his makeup, “I want to talk to you two; away from prying ears.”

* * *

 

“You are insane,” Stiles says it almost reverently as though this was a rumor he had heard and wasn’t sure had been true, like a ghost in a haunted house.

Matt raises his eyebrow and gives Stiles his best, _what can I say_ , look.

“It’ll be really simple. Three months of dates, photo shoots. interviews, and a few parties and you two can go back to living your normal lives and hating each other in peace,” Matt says it as though this was a perfectly normal thing to say in conversation and therefore a perfectly normal request.

It finally seems to break through to Stiles what exactly he is being asked to do. The laughter drops from Stiles’ face and his voice is serious when he asks, “You seriously want me to date that?”

He gestures grandly at Derek, who has his arms folded and is leaning against the wall like some brooding body guard or assassin in a movie. Derek looks about as thrilled by this idea as Stiles feels.

“You won’t actually have to date,” Matt sighs dramatically when they don’t automatically comprehend his brilliant scheme, “A few tweets and kisses here and there and you’ll be all set.”

“Whoa,” Stiles holds up his hands, “No one said anything about kissing. Now you expect me to pretend to date him and kiss him and make it look real? We’ve had a long successful relationship based on mutual enmity. How do you expect us to convince anyone that we don’t just like each other but are head over heels and doing the deed? That’s just not possible.”

Derek grudgingly nods his head in agreement but looks almost as though he would rather stick his head in acid. Stiles gestures at him as if to say, _see? Even he agrees it’s crazy!_

Matt glares at them and grounds out, exasperated, “You’re actors, act!”

Matt is becoming increasingly more irritated with the two as they give him twin stubborn looks, jutting jaws and all. “It’s three months and if you do pull this off then we’ll all hit it big,” Matt tries to keep his voice calm as he says this but he can tell it doesn’t work as well it could have, but that’s why he’s the director, “If we get a big boost in viewership then we’ll be in for another couple of seasons and there is nothing the viewers like more than the two of you. Enemies into lovers is a great story, they’ll eat it up. Three months, get us a solid viewership,  and get out of this like thieves, simple enough?”

Matt raises an eyebrow at them and he knows the two have dollar signs and acting awards floating in their heads. Everyone in this room was the best in the business at what they do but they aren’t very well known yet and this simple act could sky rocket them to stardom. The boys couldn’t possibly refuse with such rewards practically handed to them on a silver platter, even with their famous rivalry standing between them.

Stiles, of course, speaks first. He glances at Derek, sharing a half glare with him of understanding and turns back to Matt, determined. “So,” he asks in trepidation with the voice of one who is about to enter a cage full of hungry lions, “How do we do this?”

Matt sits back in his chair with a wicked smirk, steepling his fingers like the evil mastermind that he is. Then he speaks the magic words, the name of the one talk show everyone wants to be on that accepts only the best of the best, the crème of the crop, “We get you on Celebrity Wolf.”


	2. Chapter 2

"We need something big but believable," Matt says, pacing in front of Jackson, producer extraordinaire.

"I don't care what you do," Jackson informs them, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on his desk, "As long as you don't drag my name through the mud. If this thing doesn't go over smooth and it comes back to haunt me, none of you will work in this town again."

"You worried about daddy's reputation," Stiles asks snidely.

Jackson opens his mouth to reply, indignant rage making him sit forward and glare daggers at Stiles who is smirking at him. Lydia, Media Manager and unofficial overlord of all their lives, cuts them off sharply from her perch on the edge of Jackson's desk, "No one is out to ruin reputations today, so let's get back to the matter at hand. Derek," she motions him away from the bookcase authoritatively. "Stiles," she waves her hand to indicate he stand next to Derek. Stiles bows grandly to her before obeying.

The eyes of the room are on the two of them as they stand at attention next to each other, waiting on Lydia next command. Their body language screams their distaste for each other. Derek stands there with his arms crossed and Stiles has his body angled away. It was a chemistry that works well on camera, the two always repelling each other but forced into close proximity. This unwilling allies feel does not translate well into lovers, or even friends outside Danny's excellent effect work.

"How do you expect this work again," Jackson asks petulantly.

"Look at each other," Lydia orders impatiently, "and act natural."

This does not help the situation, making the two more hostile than before as they glare each other down.

"They have to make a natural transition from this or it's too obvious," Danny points out.

"Definitely," Matt agrees, "All this emnity needs to be a cover for how they really feel."

"Well I really feel like I'm going to puke," Stiles mutters.

The room ignores him, though Derek's glower might have intensified.

"Let’s start from the top. What was your first impression of each other," Danny asks the two.

"Obnoxious," Derek replies immediately.

"Real conversation stopper," Stiles says acidly.

"Okay... what do you like about each other," Danny continues, a little more exasperated than before.

"Nothing," they say, in unison.

"We have a lot of work to do," Lydia sighs and stands up.

"Drunken hookup," Jackson suggests to Matt in the background.

Lydia grabs the wrists of the two and maneuvers them around with an authority that neither have the willpower to question.

"That'll get us a couple of gossip magazines for a week," Matt dismisses, "If we want this to go big, we need something more romantic."

Their fingers brush as Lydia yanks their hands around and they finally put up some resistance.

"A chance encounter," Jackson throws out, clearly drawing on one too many of the movies Lydia had forced him to sit through.

"Everyone knows these two are _never_ together except for work unless you tie them up. We'd need a catalyst," Matt muses.

“Some way for them to really get to know each other, break down some walls,” Danny suggests.

Lydia shifts her grip and weaves their fingers together expertly, like she is a master craftsman creating the next David out of clay. Their hands fit well together and they flex their fingers around each other. Then they catch the slightly bemused look of the other and resume their glaring at double the hatred.

"They could share a room," Jackson suggests, smiling winning at Stiles, "I've been looking for somewhere to cut the budget."

Stiles turns his glare to Jackson, wishing looks could kill. Jackson rocks back in his chair with a self satisfied countenance.

Matt is about to speak again with a new suggestion, still with the look of a man pulling at straws, when Lydia announces, a mischievous, knowing glint in her eye, "That would be perfect."

“What,” Derek and Stiles yell together, a mix of furious and incredulous.

That is how Stiles and Derek came to share room 408, despite their protests.


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s sad is what I’m saying,” Stiles says to Derek’s reflection in the bathroom mirror of their hotel room, “When Allison got together with Scott they didn’t get even half the attention we are.”

“They did go viral,” Derek points out over his book.

“They only did that because of the photo bomber in the background and the tasteful side boob on that dress,” Stiles dismisses flippantly.

“Surprised you noticed” Derek snorts under his breath

“I’m very perceptive,” Stiles says indignantly, catching every word, turning back to Derek and crossing his arms defiantly at him.

“Of women,” Derek asks, disbelief etched in his voice as he meets Stiles’s eyes.

“I know this comes as a surprise to you, but I’m quite the ladies man,” Stiles smirks at him. Derek shakes his head with a chuckle. “What,” Stiles finally asks, defensively.

“I remember an article,” Derek began but Stiles cuts him off, knowing already what trash magazine he was talking about, “That headline was totally bogus, of the two of us here, you’re more likely to be full gay and we both know it.”

Derek raises his eyebrow in a knowing, condescending way that suggests he has evidence to the contrary.

“You’re just jealous because you know you’ve got no chance with me,” Stiles states, arrogantly.

“Your ability to delude yourself never ceases to amaze me,” Derek says, almost as an aside, placing his bookmark in his book and setting it on the side table.

“You didn’t deny it,” Stiles points out triumphantly.

“Don’t have to,” Derek states simply, standing from the chair and stretching leisurely.

“You think you could ever hope to catch this,” Stiles asks, disbelief etched in every word, “Ha! You’d be lucky to snag a fish even half as perfect as this succulent rarity.”

Derek gives Stiles a look of condescension, fittingly suggesting the insanity of those words. He doesn’t deign to respond though as he walks toward the bathroom who’s entrance Stiles is currently blocking.

“Your lofty looks don’t deceive me. You couldn’t take my breath away if you wanted to,” Stiles says flippantly as he looks Derek up and down.

“Oh really,” Derek asks, hearing a challenge.

He is only a foot or so away now and suddenly there is a mischievous gleam to his eye and a predatory smile crawling across his face. Stiles starts to object as Derek advances that last step but he doesn’t get more than a few syllables out as he makes to back up before Derek has slipped under his guard, hefted him up, and thrown him bodily onto the bed.

The impact knocks the breath out of Stiles’s lungs and he gasps on instinct. Before he can get his breath back though, Derek is in his space, a long, hot line along his body. Derek’s legs bracket one of Stiles’s own and he looms, none of his weight falling on Stiles. His body is just close enough to trigger Stiles’s complete awareness of it as they lightly brush up against each other with each breath.

Stiles mouth is open slightly as he catches his breath again. His eyes are half lidded as they stare back at Derek’s smug smirk. Derek shifts his weight to one hand as he uses the other to trace a line up Stiles’s neck and catches his chin, forcing Stiles to bare his throat with the angle of it.

He holds Stiles there for a few long seconds before he speaks, slowly and sinuously, his mouth so close to Stiles’s own that he feels the gentle brushing of his lips as he speaks and can taste the spearmint on his breath from his toothpaste, “You might want to take that back.”

“You totally cheated,” Stiles accuses, much softer than he wants because his voice is gravely and lost in his throat.

Stiles isn’t positive, but he could have sworn he felt Derek shiver at that. He dismisses it though as Derek pushes off the bed and leaves with his stolen victory to reclaim the bathroom, not even trying to hide his smugness.


End file.
